Chapter Text
Time ticked differently in this new world almost as if a vastness stood between her and everything she knew from her other life.
Every turn curved in a strange, unfamiliar way. Every face blinked and smiled in such oddity it threw her. Every color dulled in comparison to her memories, yet every vibrancy in the world hurt her as they passed in a brilliance too strong to be experienced by her eyes.
The sounds…the sounds rang with such clarity every whisper drummed too loudly. They whisked around in the air drowning out all the ticks any clock could sing even the clock of life.
It overwhelmed her and numbed her all at once. It arrested her and pushed her into action in a way she never dreamed, in a way that felt foreign to her mind but so natural to her body.
No, that was not right. She knew this feeling. This kind of wonderstruck engulfed her when she first arrived on this planet. It grew inside of her when this piece of paradise was still just Planet Alpha. Before the terror of the first eclipse. Before the terror of death took hold. Before she found life again. Before this restless cycle of life and death and then life again twisted her into something less than human, twisted her into someone much more unfeeling. Before Sanctum actually became her sanctuary from every idiotic thing that tried to end her.
There may be a residual effect from the occupant of this body before her, but it was hers now. Clarke was dead and she was going to stay that way even if she felt this soft tug at the back of her head, almost like a reminder of the crime her family committed. Almost like this body knew she did not belong here.
Josephine took one last look at her room before making her way down the stairs to a crowd of complete strangers. She had to convince them Clarke lived in this glorious skin.
A dark-haired girl spoke to the others before turning her attention to the stairs. Everyone peered over at her in a bizarre concoction of disdain and admiration. The same girl said one last thing before walking out the door.
Remember the stories. Remember the blood dripping from her hands. Remember they are looking for peace and happiness.
Most importantly, remember their names.
She stood rather tall with her hip to the side before greeting everyone, “Hey, guys!”
Eyes blinked and someone said, “Well, someone is chipper this morning. Almost like one day of forgiveness means it all goes away.”
Josephine bit her tongue to keep from snarking back. Instead, she attempted to focus on an appropriate amount of sass and compassion. She could not find one, so she gave a grimace and walked away toward the bar.
Her gait was wrong. She walked with too much swagger, with the wrong type of confidence. She took up too much space and with every step, she announced herself in the wrong tone. Her figure was off, but Josephine could not know how to physically embody a person so different from her.
She only needed to be Clarke long enough for them to see the need for her to be gone, for them to understand it is better this way.
---
Everything seemed off.
The silence left in her absence threw him off kilter. Her presence never made him ill at ease. Even at their worst, she never threatened him, never scared him. He may not have understood her every decision, but he could always trace it back in a logical path. He knew her, knew her head and knew her heart. He knew her in ways he forgot and ways he will always remember.
Now, she moved in strange, sharp lines painting a rather peculiar picture. Six years passed them both and etched on their skin and their souls every second. Yes, six years drew new scars and built new walls, but he thought they were finally tumbling and healing and being honest.
This attitude reflected nothing of the unburdening they shared not yet two days ago. Or maybe, this was Clarke without the need for his forgiveness.
Bellamy realized she did not receive the same forgiveness from the others. Maybe this was a Clarke who did not need forgiveness to find peace. Still, even with the freedom she may or may not have discovered, something in the pit of his stomach yelled at him, told him something was so very wrong.
It was more than just everyone pushing her further and further away. It was more than just the unrelenting snark she dodged every day. It was more than the guilt of which she appeared to be free. The same guilt which buried her yesterday.
She rode the line of assurance and arrogance with such flirtation it frightened him. Clarke never walked with this effortlessness as if she never carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She never stood tall as if her back never broke with the burden of responsibility. She never danced the night without the slightest thought of anyone.
Well, she did dance on Naming Day with the doctor. There was still a hesitation in her movements. He saw those minor halts as she confronted every decision to move so carefree. He saw the pauses in her smile and the quivers in her laughter. He knew she fought her way to a night of peace.
There was no fight in her now. All that was left was a casual sense of superiority and a small taste of a cunning—too volatile for it to be the same intelligence Clarke used to save him, to save them all.
The argument in the background slowly came to the forefront of his attention.
“Delilah is different! I am telling you something is off about this place.”
“You were happy with this place when you were getting laid, and now, that you’re dumped, you think something weird is going on?”
“She didn’t even remember my name! She looked at me like she had never met me like I was nothing to her. She isn’t Delilah anymore. They did something to her. I am telling you.”
“People get dumped after sex all of the time. It’s not something to start a war over. Trust me! You will live. You just need another girl. I am sure we can find you one somewhere on Sanctum…she may not be as cute, but you did reach pretty high for your first girlfriend.”
“You believe me, right Bellamy?...Bellamy?”
“Earth to Bellamy! Oh, wait, Clarke burned Earth down to a crisp for a second time, so…Sanctum to Bellamy!” Pause, “Huh, I really thought that was going to work.”
He heard his name and a witticism meant to elicit a chuckled reprimand. His eyes stayed glued to the retreating figure with Clarke’s face until his voice found a way out of his throat, “Do you think something is wrong with Clarke?”
Jordan huffed, “No, something is wrong with Delilah! Have you not been paying attention?”
Bellamy turned to say, “No, I’m serious. Doesn’t she seem off to you?”
Murphy rubbed his temple saying, “Float me! Not you too!”
Bellamy breathed, “Come on, did any of us see her after the naming ceremony? She was gone all night. You don’t think that’s marginally suspicious?”
Utterly exasperated, Murphy threw his hands in the air, “No! Russell probably gave her special access to some secret party none of us knew about because she’s royalty here. He probably fed her some story about how much of hero she is and how all the murder she committed doesn’t count here or something.”
Stern and fatherly, only one word had to be said to straighten Murphy’s back and stop all his jokes escaping his mouth. Bellamy growled his name, “Murphy.”
Jordan inserted himself again, “Yeah, like Delilah. They both have been super weird since Naming Day. And, they both have black blood. Don’t you think that’s something to look into?”
Murphy peeked over to the bar and simply saw a pretty blonde having a drink with a cute boy sitting awfully close to her. He signed, “Dude, Clarke’s just getting laid. We don’t need to start a war because of your jealousy.”
Bellamy wanted to deny every little thing. He wanted to say jealousy played no part. He wanted to say his head was dictating everything, that his heart was safely tucked away from this whole affair. But he knew he would be telling a lie. So, he settled for a half-truth, “It’s not jealousy. I just don’t want anyone else I love to suffer. If Russell did something to Clarke, don’t you think we owe her to do something about it?”
After the question was asked, a giggle could be heard the room. As they all moved their heads toward the sound, they caught Clarke’s flirty smirk and a slight twirling of her hair. She placed a hand a man’s forearm as she whispered something into his ear. Her lips hovering so closely it sent shivers down the spines to any and all onlookers.
Murphy ate all his previous sentiments as he asserted, “Yeah, okay, that’s weird. She’s being a weirdo.” Puffing to show his resistance to the idea, he agreed, “I can’t believe this…what’s the plan?”
Jordan perked up, “You believe me, now?”
“Well, kid, I’m already going to hell, so might as well have some fun here before I call it quits for real.”
Pulling a piece of paper out, Jordan began dishing out what he knew so far, “I couldn’t get a lot of information by myself without looking super suspicious, but I was able to get some stuff. Clarke was last seen by Bellamy at the party with Cillian, right? None of us had seen her since until the following afternoon. She also has been with Russell a whole lot.”
Taken aback, Bellamy rose his hand, “Jordan, not that I’m not glad to see all this, but why do you have all this information about Clarke if you thought Delilah was the one being strange?”
“I was going to ask Clarke for help. My mom and dad always made it seem like she was the one with all the good plans, so I was going to tell her everything about Delilah, but then she started hanging out with Russell and then I remembered what Miller said how it wasn’t good that Clarke was a nightblood. I thought maybe whatever happened to Delilah could happen to Clarke. I was hoping to track her movements to catch them in the act, but if you think that she’s already weird…”
Murphy said, “Can we go back to the plan?”
“Oh, yes! I know that there are twelve primes to represent the four original families. To have a Naming Day, you have to have the royal blood, people with the royal blood have been getting more and more rare. Delilah and Rose were the last pair. No one with nightblood has been born in the last 10 or so years.”
Murphy chilled at the thought of Clarke being taken by whatever happened to all the people on Naming Day. Despite all the anger burning through him, his heart resigned to the love he felt and the harm she inflicted on him and he inflicted on her. This mutual destruction they always seem to cause one another. Their love mingled with pain and blood. It was the kind of love only a cockroach could have for another cockroach.
Bellamy said, “You think they wanted Clarke for this ceremony.”
Jordan, the most serious any of them had seen him, frowned, “I think that the reason they let us stay is that they realized we had people with black blood. I think that if they find out there could be more out there.”
“Well, where do we start?”
Jordan took out a map, “The tunnels. I asked around about the building where they took Delilah for the ceremony. Apparently, it’s the center for this tunnel system made out of caves. We need to get in there to see exactly what they did to them, so we can figure out how to reverse it.”
Not wanting to bring bad news, Murphy could not stop them from slipping out his lips, “That is if we can reverse it.”
Bellamy clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes as his voice lowered in all aspects especially in warmth, “We will. I won’t let them keep Clarke.”
---
The brightness of the outdoors rarely shined into the motor shop. Darkness helped him think, helped him remove himself from every life he lived and every life he stole. Something changed, little by little, his willingness to adapt to a new face, a new body shifted. He recognized tradition and appreciated the rebirth, but it was no longer enough.
How many people crave a second chance and are never given one?
Here, he was reborn with all his past memories, all his past lives ingrained in the coding of his being. Here, he did not have a second chance but he had a third and fourth and fifth and sixth and seventh. Somehow, even those were not enough.
His mind wandered toward Raven Reyes. Her aggressiveness stemmed from her intelligence. She was all hard lines and ragged edges. She was as battle-worn as he was life-worn. Something about her and her people tipped the scale. He could feel it in the air after the eclipse. Everything about Sanctum trembled in their presence.
He trembled in her presence.
All of this beauty emerged in one person like an epiphany. She held answers in her mind to long-forgotten questions. Her people tipped the scale, still unsure what side they were on. But, whatever they decide, they were sure to win.
She was someone he wanted to know but felt ashamed in his desire. She wanted to know the person before Ryker, and he could not give that to her.
His mother sighed bringing him out of his thoughts into his reality, back to the darkness he used as a distraction for so long, “Ryker…are you still working on that bike?”
Unmoving, he acknowledged her with a simple word, “Yeah.”
“Son, we have to go to the meeting with Russell. He has news to share and he wanted to celebrate my return.”
“I wasn’t planning on attended some fancy dinner to see Russell and Simone talking about how wonderful Sanctum is and how great we are for letting these new people come into our home. I don’t feel like celebrating. It just doesn’t seem like the decent thing to do.”
Priya exhaled and ambled her way toward her son. Placing a hand on his shoulder to stop his work, she willed him to look at her—her face too young and her hair too loose for her to appear like his mother. She knew the struggle. His body was too tall and firm, his eyes too green.
“Do you not want to celebrate the return of your mother? Is that not worth a few hours of mingling with actual people instead of all these machines?”
Closing his eyes, he stumbled through a semblance of an apology, “Mother, I didn’t…”
“I know. I know. It will take some getting used to, but we will get there. We always do.”
“I’m not entirely convinced we should.”
Her breath hitched and she reached out to cradle his face—older than hers but her touched carried the wisdom of any mother, “Are you not happy to see your mother?”
Cover her hands with his, he stood saying, “Of course I am! That’s not what I meant. I just mean that…I don’t know what I meant.” Dejected, he softly murmured the rest of his thought, “Maybe you’re right. It’s just weird to see you with her face. I knew Delilah. I spent some time at the bar.”
Her thumb caressed his cheek before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead mimicking what she had done to comfort him in all their lives. Her lips were different, too full, but that smile, that smile remained the same. In all their lives, he could always see her smile with the kindness of his mother no matter the face—hers or his.
Her voice echoed the same tenderness of the small instance they shared, “I know it will take some time, but we will get there. I promise…Now, go change. You know how Russell gets about these things. I laid out a nice shirt I think you should wear. Go. I’ll wait for you here.”
He went and he wore the shirt she chose. They walked together never talking. They entered the large dining room with a feast laid out before them. He mingled with the other primes as was expected of him. He lingered near his mother trying to see any remnants of the woman Delilah was. He saw nothing left of her sweet nature.
It all went like it always did until Clarke walked into the room except something was off. She sauntered in. She commanded the crowd in a dangerously familiar way.
Then she spoke.
It was a simple greeting, a mere hello. But he knew. He knew what they had done, and he grew sick. Taking the lives of those who were willing was part of the ritual. Clarke would not have been willing.
They announced Josephine’s rebirth with such delight. They explained they would use this host to find more black bloods. They apologized for skipping the line, but how they knew Josephine would be up for the challenge in a way no other would be.
He heard no more. He finished the night unknowingly playing the part required of him. He moved subconsciously until he saw blonde hair whip passed him.
He found his voice, “Josephine! What have you done?”
She turned eyes big but with a response ready, “I did nothing. I didn’t choose this host. My father chose for me, but I’m glad he did.”
“She isn’t one of us! She shouldn’t have been selected. This goes against all of our traditions.”
“Come on, Ryker! You have your body. I have mine. What does it matter how we got them! We are the primes, hallow be our names. I deserve this. We deserve this.”
As she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him, “She was an innocent person looking for a safe place to live.”
Josephine scoffed, “No one is innocent least of all her. Besides, what she wanted was peace. We gave her that. I gave her that.”
“What you gave her was death, Josie!”
“I deserve to live! That’s what she gave me. She gave me life, another chance. I am not going to waste it just because you think you have the moral high ground. You don’t, Ryker. Your host is just as dead as mine.” With a smirk in place, she ended her rant, “At least, I know the name of my host. Do you? Do you know anything about the person whose body was given to you? I know her story. I know where she came from and where she wanted to go. I know she was smart and determined and god, damn was she hot.”
She loosened his grip and twisted her hair around her finger, “I haven’t been this hot since my original body. You better believe I am about to have some amazing fun.”
Ryker was left with the same questions as before but a new resolve.
Seven chances. This was his seventh chance. He could emulate all his other lives. He could spend it in the darkness he created for himself surrounded by the machines to which he has grown so accustomed. The same routine of living a life he should not have. Or, he could break this rusted curse and fix the system.
So, enthralled by his own anxiety, he missed a very small detail. As Josephine spoke, something flickered behind her eyes. It contorted into something different, someone else.
He did not miss the way she stumbled out of the hall. Hands immediately to her temples as she confronted the very determination and cleverness she just so praised.
He made his way toward her, “Josie, you okay?”
Snatching herself away from his grasp, she firmly declared, “I’m fine. I’m still just getting used to this new body. And this new body is still getting used to being here on Sanctum.”
She left him with a new question on his mind, her head throbbing as a reminder of the heart still beating inside of her.
---
The thing no one told her about death was the pain she would encounter. Her whole nervous system raged with every little tweak. No matter how slight the movement, her body felt the fire of the death wave over and over again.
Hell hurt her more than she imagined it would.
She begged for it to stop the flames, to stop her skin from melting. She begged for a moment’s rest. Once the heat of her death vanished, she begged for it to come back.
Because once she was able to open her eyes, all she saw was the trail of bodies she left behind her wake. All she saw was Mount Weather oozing and withering in her mistake. All she saw was everything she caused on the ground.
All the misery. All the destruction. All the war. All the death. All of it just piled before her, mounting so high it crushed her screams.
She knew how it went. She woke in the white room seeing Monty on the other side. She broke out of the room and attacked poor Maya. Dante confronted her. She found Anya. She escaped. She killed Finn. She negotiated with Lexa. She saved Raven She sent Bellamy into the mountain. She lost everything.
Each time, the same story played in such perfection she began to resign herself to the misery of her torment. Every detail was always the same over and over again. Until something diverged from the path.
Instead of Anya, she saw her father wrapped in the same white linen. His eyes as blue as the last time she allowed herself to dream of him, to think of him without the shame of her she knew he held. Here, the blue twinkled with the same mischievous compassion which rocked her to sleep every night when she was a younger, much more innocent girl.
“Dad.” Her voice swept over him. It was so small and pained, barely a whisper of astonishment.
Arms open, Jake welcomed her without hesitation and she ran. “Oh, kiddo. It’s so good to see you. How are you doing? The last time we had this talk you weren’t doing so great. You doing better now?”
Ajar, her mouth formed no words. Thoughts raced, but her tongue stuck to the bottom of her mouth and refused to move. Frozen in its place as if frightened of the truth. Maybe her father still loved her this way because he did not know what she became. Maybe she could stop carrying her sins for this one moment.
But, like all moments, it ended.
She choked out, “It’s so hard. It’s been so hard. No matter what I do…people…people die. They die. I killed them because I’m not good enough. I can’t get it right. I’m just the bad guy.”
“Oh, baby, that’s not true.”
Much more frantic and no longer in chokes, she cried these broken, dry sobs, “I’m the bad guy pretending to be sorry, pretending to learn from my mistakes. But I don’t. I can’t. They look at me and all they see is this…this monster of a person. All they see is Wenheda. And I want to blame them. I want to yell and scream how they made me this way, but I…I can’t. Because a part of me doesn’t regret any of those choices because it saved their lives…but maybe, I could have saved more. If I was smarter, better. If I wasn’t so bad.”
Cradling her face, he almost chuckled at her earnestness but his heart clenched at the sight of her aching with this truth she firmly believed. He said, “People were going to die. It was part of the life you were given, but that isn’t your fault. Oh, kiddo, you are so much more innocent than you think. You just got to let yourself remember. Break yourself free of the guilt that isn’t yours to bear.”
Just as she was about to speak again, the wall behind him dissolved and he flew out with love lingering on his lips.
“No! Come back. Please come back”
She sunk to the floor with sobs no longer dry ringing in the air, “Please…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll be better. Just come back.”
And it started again with the white room, the suspicion, the escape, the betrayal. Monty. Maya. Dante. Finn. Lexa. Raven. Bellamy. Never her father. Over and over again.
So, she begged for her death, for the flames she associated with hell, because Clarke Griffin was a master of her own agony but she could never handle someone else’s.
---
Getting in through the front door was impossible but getting blueprints of the architecture was relatively easy. The tunnels were connected and as long as you had a map, you could find your way.
Bellamy pointed to the area near the bar, “We can use this building to access the tunnels and make our way east toward that building. It should be right under the room the ceremony took place if Jordan’s intel is right?”
Offended, Jordan said, “It’s right! I spent the last two days talking to everyone I could and asking about the process. We wouldn’t be this close without me.”
With a loud pat on Jordan’s pat, Murphy congratulated him, “Good job, kid. You get a gold star on your homework. Now, can we get back to the work we have to get done?”
Bellamy shook his head, “Behave. The both of you. We need to go soon before people get accustomed to seeing us places. Right now, people don’t know us well enough, so if they don’t see us, they may assume we are back at our ship. Murphy and I will go into the tunnels. Jordan, I think you need to be our lookout.”
Jordan protested, “No…you need me.”
Hand up to stop him, Bellamy countered, “You’re actually friendly, Jordan. People won’t be surprised if you start talking to them. And we might need you to talk as a distraction. You being out and mingling won’t throw anyone off. If I do it or if Murphy does, it would be much more suspicious.”
“Aren’t we already a little suspicious? You know meeting like this.”
Bemused, Murphy said, “Didn’t think I would say this, but the kid’s right. We have been huddling in the back corner of a tavern. They have to be the dumbest people to not think this is a little fishy.”
Bellamy highlighted a route, “I already mentioned it to Russell that some of us are getting a little stir-crazy. He gave me the map as a sign of good faith, so we can take some of our people exploring.” He glanced up at them, “If anyone asks, that’s what we’re doing. We are planning a small expedition to scout the surrounding area to build a similar system they have here.”
Perching himself on his knees, Murphy gave a crooked grin, “Well, that’s settled. When do we head out?”
“Be ready this afternoon. Clarke is meant to have a meeting with Russell and all the other primes about housing. That’s when we will make our move.”
In synchronicity, all three men twisted their forms to catch Clarke moving toward them. She waved before heading straight past them and to a bar stool where she chatted with a young man. Both of their eyes sparkled and Clarke’s hand rested on his upper thigh.
A message was sent.
Murphy pushed himself up, “I’ll be right back.”
He manoeuvred himself to be able to interject himself between her and the other guy, “Hey, barkeep! I would like a Jo Juice.”
“Hey, man, do you mind?”
Sneaking a look, Murphy shrugged, “Nah, I don’t mind per se, but I could use more space, so if you could beat it…” He paused to give the other man time to feel in his name. Nothing came, so he continued, “Look, Clarke and I have things to discuss, so can you finish that somewhere else?”
Stepping in, Clarke reached behind Murphy to ease the tension growing, “Tomas, can you give us a minute?” The smile on her face was sweet and easy. It captured the wrong picture of the beautiful woman she clearly was. Clarke had always been quite the sight, even Murphy could admit it, but her lips never lifted with such sauciness.
An invitation hid in that sweet smile, an invitation of a rather promising afternoon and even more promising evening. Clarke’s face never did any of it even on her best days. Not with Finn. Not with Niylah. Not with Lexa. Not with Bellamy.
Once alone, it all fell into a scowl, rather deadly, before sighing, “Can I help you?”
“What are you doing?”
“I was trying to get a date for tonight, but after your little stunt, it’s safe to say that’s over.”
“Really, Clarke…this is what you’re doing? And with that guy? Come on, you can do better.”
Snapping, she stared right at him, “Yes, with that guy. Now, what do you really want, Murphy?”
Eyeing her reaction (nothing but annoyance), he said, “If you tell anyone this, I will deny it. But I wanted to check on you. We haven’t had a real chance to talk about the eclipse, and while it changes nothing, I don’t want that guilt on my conscience. I have enough damning me to hell.”
Something flashed over her face. It happened rapidly, so rapidly Murphy almost missed it. A gratitude-laced sadness crossed her features before stoniness took control. It calculated an angle with which to attack.
She said, “Not all of us are as unfeeling as you are, Murphy. I don’t know if you can tell, but I have a lot of baggage. I wanted to have a nice guy take me out and take me home, so I wouldn’t have to be alone, but you ruined that. So, thanks. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to a meeting with Russell with this huge headache now.”
Gazing after her, Murphy stepped off the bar stool once she was out of sight. Once he rejoined Bellamy and Jordan, he plotted himself on a chair and cursed, “Well, Clarke is definitely not Clarke, so yeah, something weird is going on here.”
“Let’s go then.”
Jordan wished them luck before heading to speak with Raven briefly. Bellamy and Murphy exited the bar and went straight for the tunnels.
They did not speak, not until they had been walking for almost an hour, not until they reached the center point of the tunnels, not until all the skeletons came into full view.
Jaws dropped; they weaved their way through all the collected skeletons proudly displayed. Silence mirrored the ambience of the room, dimly lit and rather well-groomed.
Murphy broke it all with a single truthful snide, “Do you think they thought the whole skeletons in your closet thing was literal? Because I mean…they could give even Clarke a run for her money.”
Tightening his jaw, Bellamy said, “We need to leave. Who’s still in the city?”
“Jordan, Abby, Raven, Echo, you and me. Emori stayed behind on the ship to help with some repairs.”
Nodding, Bellamy said, “We need to get as many of them out as we can. We’ll mask it under the expedition mission. Abby might be the hardest. I’ll try to get Clarke.”
“No way, man! Let Jordan be in charge of gathering everyone. I’m not letting you confront Russell and his band of merry crazies alone.”
Accepting Murphy’s rebuttal, Bellamy nodded and started existing.
Murphy took one final look and murmured, “What the hell is this? What did you do, Clarke?” He jogged to catch up with Bellamy.
They wasted no time filling in Jordan who jostled to reach everyone. Bellamy and Murphy marched to the mansion with a single goal in mind.
A man towering over them guarded the entrance, “Where do you think you are going?”
Unfazed, Bellamy stepped right in front of him, “We have a meeting with Russell, so please move or I will move you.”
As still as he was before, Murphy intruded, “He will move you, so let’s not make a scene. Just let us in.” Still nothing. “We’re talking to Russell about the housing situation for our people. We can’t keep going back and forth to the ship and the village, so we are going to discuss a possible expedition into new territory with some support from Russell. So, can you…”
With that explanation, the guard stepped aside and allowed them to walk into the building.
Out of earshot, Murphy seethed, “What the hell, man! Are you trying to get us killed?”
“No one I love is going to die.”
Murphy halted and stammered, “Wow, you finally admitted it to yourself. Congratulations, Bell! We should go out to celebrate after this.”
“Murphy!”
“Right, sorry. We have a mission. Let’s go rescue Clarke or whatever.”
They found Russell with Simone and Clarke in a rather open space. All the other primes pooled into the hall as they left them alone. Ryker lingered before trailing behind Delilah.
Bellamy announced himself, “Russell, I wanted to talk about the expedition we discussed yesterday.”
Russell glimpsed at Clarke before smiling, “Absolutely, Simone.”
With her gone, Bellamy hardened, “I am being extremely calm, and for me to stay this calm, I want honest answers. So, Russell, what did you do?”
Taken aback but hiding it well, Russell’s smile did not falter, “What do you mean?”
Fist twitching on either side of him, Bellamy repeated his question, “What did you do to Clarke?”
She took one step saying, “Bellamy, I don’t understand. I’m right here and I’m fine. I promise you; Russell did nothing to me.”
Murphy attempted to swallow his snark and failed, “I’m sorry, but do we look like idiots. You did a pretty good job of selling this paradise schtick you have going but we found the skeletons in your closet. Literally! And trust me, you don’t want to piss Bellamy off even more. So, just answer his question. Also, it’s supposed to be a metaphor.”
“Murphy, that’s not important.”
Exasperated, Murphy said, “Maybe not to you, but it’s important to me that they know this. It’s important to me that you know this. It’s supposed to be a metaphor. No real skeletons should be in anyone’s closet!”
The concern on her face twisted into disgust in a blink, “Well, being her is exhausting. She sounds like a total bore. How can someone with this much great cleavage be such a stick in the mud, I will never understand.”
Even more confused, Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
Russell strained, “Clarke.”
Rolling her eyes, everything about her changed. Her voice rang cold, “What! I’m tired of being her. She’s all gloomy and filled with this guilt and people treat her like absolute trash. I’m done! I want to have some fun.” She spun around with such smugness Bellamy wonder how it took him two days to notice the difference, “Look at me, Dad. Don’t I deserve some fun?”
Murphy pointed his finger in the air, “Um…excuse me. Did you just say 'dad'?”
Russell sighed, “I know this is difficult to understand, but we are so grateful for you. You have to understand; what Clarke gave us is the world’s most beautiful gift. She gave a father his daughter back. I am forever in her debt. One I will never be able to repay.”
Bellamy stirred. Parts of him vibrated with fury, with this unregulated anger begging to be released in powerful punches. He seethed in a deadly quiet. Voice almost in a snarl, he asked, “How do we reverse it?”
Blinking, Russell said, “You can’t. Her sacrifice means the world to me, Bellamy. It is why I will look the other way. I understand what it means to lose someone you love. That kind of hurt takes time to heal, but you will recover. You will recover your happiness, your peace, the way I recovered my Josephine.” He bravely moved forward toward him, “Clarke wanted peace. And I finally gave that to her. Rest easy now, knowing her fight is finally over.”
His words of comfort, no matter how well intended, peeled away whatever resolve Bellamy held. He leapt forward and found his hands on Russell’s neck. They struggled, but Bellamy’s strength fortified by sorrow won in the end. He heard Josephine’s pleas to let him go in a voice not quite like Clarke’s and Murphy’s suggestions about not starting a war. Despite either of them, Bellamy kept on it until he felt Russell go still and fall to the floor.
Josephine yelped, “You idiots!”
She attempted to run to her father, but Murphy latched himself on to her. She pulled and pushed, but Murphy’s grip remained firm.
“You won’t get away with this! She’s dead! She’s dead and you could have lived your life here with her face still with you. But now you will get nothing! Clarke died for a great cause, and now she’s still dead but it’s all in vain.”
Bellamy looked her in the eyes, the only part of Clarke he never forgot. He had trouble remembering her voice, the color of her hair, how she smelled. But her eyes, even as time circled around and everyone around him only saw her in hazy dreams, he could see her eyes in complete clarity.
These were not her eyes.
“I’m going to get her back. Do you hear me, Clarke? I won’t leave you behind again. Not here, not ever. I’m going to get you back. I need you to come back to me. So, you better fight this from your side, okay?”
Tugging, Josephine yelled, “Let go of me. Let go. She’s dead and gone. There is nothing left of her but me.” A pause occurred before a scream, “Urgh!”
And then nothing but a limp body in Murphy’s arms.
They both looked up to see Ryker with a small gun. He had a pleased grin, “It’s the paralytic. And before you say anything, don’t worry. No one saw me and no one will see you. I got Simone in the back and there were only 2 guards who just let me in.”
Bellamy narrowed in, “Why are you doing this?”
Stepping inside the room, he said, “Not everyone believes in the primes. And even if I did, what happened to Clarke goes against our traditions. They’re supposed to be willing. She wasn’t.” He handed them a piece of paper and a tube, “This is the code to get out of the dome and that’s the antidote. I think there may be a chance she’s still in there, and if there is, you’re going to need the Children of Gabriel.”
Bellamy took it.
“Take the tunnels. There’s an entrance at the end of this hall. Keep to your left about 450 feet there’s a fork. Take the right. It should take you right to the harvest. I already told Raven to keep a lookout for when the shield goes down.”
Murphy interrupted him, “What about you?”
Another sparking smile, Ryker said, “I’m a prime. We tend to get away with stuff, and then Russell broke the rules. Josephine was third in line. Miranda’s angry. I’m sure I can convince the rest of us this is good.”
Bellamy extended his hand, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. She’s not back. Good luck.”
Off they went. They followed Ryker’s instructions to the letter. As soon as they were to the keypad, chaos boomed in the village. The shield went down and they crossed it, all of them. Clarke’s body stayed motionless with her eyes peering into them, into Bellamy.
All the lines were wrong. The colors were colder, duller. Josephine created a terrible replica of the woman Clarke was. This cheap imitation fooled him, fooled all of them.
How he did not know?
He picked her up and looked toward Murphy who in turn spotted the ship landing fifty or so feet from them. “We should regroup. Fill everyone in about what happened. Then we find the Children of Gabriel.”
Shifting her, he attempted to trek toward the ship, but Murphy stopped him with a hand on his upper arm, “Man, you solid?”
Shutting his eyes, he gulped before responding, “I will be. Once we get her back. We get Clarke back and everything is going be okay.”
Nodding, they carried her between the two of them.
---
The repetition never eased the hurt. Nothing ever made it better. Not until she heard a voice asking her to come back. Telling her she was needed. Promising her freedom.
Despite the agony and the hurt and all the bone-tired misery consuming her, she stood for once remembering him, remembering her, remembering all of them. Breathing—in and out—she cried, “You can’t have me. Not yet! I need to see him again. I need to tell him.”
Because she was breathing and he was too. And there was hope.